


Oops

by HappilyInhuman



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Sex, Bath Sex, Bottoming from the Top, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 08:07:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3242438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappilyInhuman/pseuds/HappilyInhuman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John each have a problem...or do they?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Oops

The beginning of Sherlock’s troubles happened when he returned from a crime scene late one afternoon. As John had been working at the hospital when Sherlock had left to meet Lestrade, Sherlock had been unaccompanied. As he walked in Sherlock immediately realised the flat wasn't as dark as it had been when he'd had left, the curtains had been opened and sunlight was stretching across the room.

He could hear the shower running.

So it was John who opened them and not Mrs. Hudson, then. He headed into the kitchen and had been stretched up toward the cabinet to grab a couple of cups when suddenly he heard a slight noise coming from the bathroom, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the running water. He paused, bringing the cups down and placing them on the counter before turning around and looking toward the bathroom.

Was John in pain?

Sherlock heard another moan, louder this time. He headed over to the door and decided he was going to knock and ask John if he was okay, but before he could he had heard John moaning far more desperately. He could hear the sound of skin rubbing skin.

Was John touching himself? Sherlock pressed his ear to the door as silently as he could and the sound of John moaning became louder. With less separating him from John’s sounds he could hear more clearly that the sounds were of pleasure, John desperately trying to control himself and failing, miserably. Sherlock realised that if John ever found out he was listening he would be upset and call it a gross invasion of privacy. He really did try to pull himself away but he could feel himself hardening in his pants and soon all he could manage to do was sink to his knees and unbutton his trousers. He listened to John and timed his hand, stroking himself at the pace of the moans.

The sound of John in such a position quickly brought him to the edge, and he came hard. His breathing was fast and his heart was pounding in his ears as he sat silently in the afterglow of his orgasm.

When he came back to reality several minutes later, he pulled his cum covered hand from his pants and hurriedly wiped it off on his trousers. He used the wall as support, standing up before buttoning them and scurrying away from the door, closing himself into his room just as he heard the water stopping.

He slumped against his closed door. This could be a problem.

-

It had been two days and John was home alone again while Sherlock was out doing some thing or other. He had laid himself out in the tub, warm water surrounding him, steam rising, and there was a thick scent of shampoos-his own plain and Sherlock's expensive. 

_Sherlock's shampoo._

_Sherlock._

He wasn't keen on wasting any time and soon his hands were gripping his length. The flesh had become hard and desperate to be stroked, as it seemed to do each time he began to think about Sherlock...Tall, gorgeous, pure, porcelain skinned Sherlock. As much as he had tried to resist having such thoughts about his best friend, over the past few months it had gotten harder and harder to get off without envisioning Sherlock bent over some surface, quietly taking John's length inside of him-losing his virginity to John, surrendering it.

John moaned, his fingers sliding against his sensitive flesh. Sherlock had told him he expected to not be home until 5, and so he allowed himself to make noise freely.

Sherlock was coming through the door to the flat at that time. The case which he'd thought would be at least a 9 surprisingly was simpler than it had looked at first, a 4 at best, easily solved. He was heading to his room when he heard John moaning in the bathroom again. He paused.

Sherlock knew it wasn't right for him to continue to listen the way that he had the last time, but the sound of John in sexual pleasure, he discovered, set his lower body on fire. He was stood still between the bathroom and his room, looking between the two doors in indecision. 

He should have gone to his room, but instead he slid to his knees outside the bathroom door.

It was when he was nearing orgasm, forehead against the door and stroking himself furiously that he heard it.

"She-She-Sherlock!"

He paused. Surely he must be hearing things?

"Oh God Sherlock!" John wailed, clearly orgasming. Sherlock breathed shakily, his legs suddenly jello as he shakily pushed himself up from the door before wobbling as quickly as he could into his bedroom, not even taking the time to pull up his trousers from where they bagged at his knees.

About fifteen minutes later John was working shampoo into his hair, feeling guilty about the way he'd been picturing Sherlock, the things he'd imagined Sherlock saying...doing, the things he's imagined himself doing to Sherlock... He knew if Sherlock ever knew he'd be disgusted beyond belief, and it would surely tear their friendship to shreads. 

No, he decided, Sherlock must never know.

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"John are you in the bath?" He heard Sherlock's voice from the other side, "Can I come in?"

"Sherlock I'm naked." He stated the obvious.

"...So?"

"Oh for God's sake, Sherlock! What on Earth is it you need that can't wait until I'm out?"

"You, John." The words he'd spent the last ten minutes in his room encouraging himself to speak: "I need you."

John gulped, he couldn't mean...?

Sherlock slowly turned the handle and John was silent, eyes wide as an equally nude Sherlock walked through the door. John gulped, taking in the sight of the still erect length, and felt his own refilling and straining for attention. Sherlock silently slipped himself into the water, John's lap providing a place for him.

"Is this okay?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes-" John was sure he was dreaming. Surely he had slipped off into a nap due to the lethargy after orgasm and was now having a dream which involved Sherlock due to the fact that that had been what he'd been thinking about right before he'd fallen asleep.

"You're not dreaming." Sherlock whispers, and for a moment John wonders when Sherlock’s lips had gotten so close.

John lifts an arm and tangles a hand in Sherlock’s hair before using the other arm to cup Sherlock's face in order to pull it even closer. _How long has Sherlock had such beautiful eyes?_ He wonders, staring into them. _I've never realised how soft his skin is._ He thinks, continuing to rub Sherlock’s jaw with his thumb.

He slowly guides Sherlock forward, Sherlock allowing him to do so in trust. John licks his lips before he meets Sherlock half way, kissing him slowly, his arms lowering until they held Sherlock tightly around the waist.

"Oh Sherlock," John whispers, his forehead against that of his genius, "I love you so much more than you will ever know."

"I think I know," Sherlock replies confidently, grin wide. "After all, I feel the same way."

John pulls him back in. Their tongues fight this time, the impatient men aroused by one another so fervently that their control over themselves was virtually nonexistent.

"I love you John," Sherlock says, lifting his hips when John motions for him to, and cringes as John immediately plunges two thick digits into his entrance without warning. He clutches at John while the burn slowly dissipates, and when the two fingers begin a scissoring motion he whines quietly under his breath. He hurriedly lowers his own hand down between them and grasps both of their erections, stroking them together as he feels John adding a third finger to his entrance.

"Ohhh-" The brunette whines, frustrated. "God, John, just-just-God!" John had pressed all three fingers against his sensitive prostate gland. "Christ, just fuck me already!"

John's grin was huge, thrilled to discover what he could do to Sherlock in mere moments. His length felt harder than steel, and he began to realise that he'd never been this aroused in his life. He hastily removed his fingers from Sherlock’s entrance before replacing them with the head of his cock.

"Is this what you want?" He asked, wanting Sherlock's confirmation before moving forward.

Sherlock whined, "P-Please John..." Sherlock felt John press into him then, the length slowly and gently prodding the warm walls wider as it sheathed itself inside them. The feeling was strange-he'd never had anything so large inside of him, even the vibrator he'd used on occasion fell much short of John's impressive size. As John became fully sheathed Sherlock cringed hard, his body slowly becoming acclimated to being filled so fully.

"Does it hurt too much?" John asked, stroking Sherlock’s jaw and ever protective of the detective.

"No. No." Sherlock replied hastily, "It feels good, now do me a favour and move already _please!"_

John laughed before gripping Sherlock’s hips and thrusting himself out before slowly pushing back in, pulling a low moan from Sherlock’s mouth and causing them both to grasp at one another desperately in pleasure. He thrusted again, less carefully, savouring the way the simple movement could make Sherlock cry out.

"Oh god, Sherlock, those sounds are amazing." He said, the detective in his lap whining as he was thrust into again.

John kept at it, and by the time that they were each approaching orgasm Sherlock was shaking like a leaf in John's arms, each thrust slamming his sensitive spot and his face red from the exertion. John tightened his left arm around Sherlock before slipping the free one down between them in order to stroke Sherlock's erection. Sherlock was sent over the edge by the added sensation, his entrance tightening around John as he felt the pressure in his length finally reach a peak, cum splattering onto both his and John's chests.

The tightening of Sherlock’s entrance brought John to his own orgasm more quickly, and both arms returned to Sherlock's hips. He gripped Sherlock so hard he worried he might bruise him, but in the haze of his orgasm he slammed Sherlock as hard onto his length as he could just as he released.

Sherlock sighed happily as he felt the warmth of John's semen coating his insides before giving up on holding his head up himself and instead laid in on John's shoulder.

They sat in silence for a moment, arms clutching one another before John finally spoke: "How did you know?" He paused, "Let me guess: Deduction?" He asked.

Sherlock laughed.

"No. I heard you through the door!" John could have facepalmed because he had been so oblivious-leave it to Sherlock to come home three hours early. He was glad for it though, because now he had the genius exactly where he wanted him: his arms.

"I am so thankful that you didn't warn me that you were coming home." He said, holding Sherlock’s face in his hands and looking into his eyes. "I love you so much it makes me crazy sometimes." They kissed.

"John?"

"Hmm?"

"Maybe you should wash the shampoo out of your hair now..."


End file.
